


No Light, Without Darkness (Discontinued)

by TheGreenLightWolf



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenLightWolf/pseuds/TheGreenLightWolf
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn is a disgraced deserter of the corrupt Jedi Order, travelling alone across the Galaxy in search of the prophesied Chosen One, whom most consider to be little more than a myth. He's a maverick, haunted by his past yet devoted to his present quest.Padme Naberrie is a political prodigy, desperate to follow her convictions but forced to conform to the dispassionate mask that is Queen Amidala of the Naboo. With a catastrophic conflict on the horizon, she can do little but delay the inevitable.Anakin Skywalker is enslaved to the Hutts, required to enforce the desires of his masters or risk an unfortunate ending for his beloved mother. While part of him dreams of freedom for himself and his mother, a darker side craves only vengeance against those who brought this fate upon them.Alone, they can only react to the atrocities that face them. But together, they have the power to not only change their own fates, but save the Galaxy from the forces conspiring to bring about it's ruin.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Italics mean the current narrators thoughts.  
> Bold means that the narrator is dreaming or having a vision. 
> 
> This is an AU where things are very different from Canon. Here are a few examples of how: 
> 
> The Jedi have a political presence in the Senate and are spread across the Galaxy advising the various rulers of systems. They are outright attempting to control the political climate of the Republic.  
> There are seven major political parties within the Senate itself vying for influence that each reflect a different type of Government.  
> Qui-Gon is in his late fourties. Anakin is eighteen, while Padme is nineteen. 
> 
> Theres more, but I don't want to spoil it too much. In case anybody is wondering, yes Obi-Wan and other fan favorites will have significant roles in the story. I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!

The night was illuminated by flares of emerald and amethyst as two combatants clashed. The elder of the two moved with speed far beyond his age, backing up each strike of his lightsaber with confident strength that any normal opponent would crumble before. But this was no normal adversary, rather a well trained and youthful Jedi Knight. The pair had been battling for the better part of fifteen minutes, neither appearing to gain any ground. This was by design, as the elder of the two was clearly leading the younger. The forest around them displayed the consequences of their duel, with severed branches and scorched dirt lying in their wake.

Qui-Gon Jinn knew that he'd have to end the struggle before they began to garner unwanted attention.

As the younger Jedi came in from Qui-Gon's left with a wild horizontal strike, the more experienced swordsman shifted his guard stance to staunchly halt the attack, sparks spiraling off their blades as they connected. Without hesitation, Qui-Gon released hold of his weapon with one hand and snapped it out to grasp his opponents hilt, snatching it away with ease. At the same time, he summoned the Force and lightly shoved the omniscient energy into the young woman, causing the other Jedi to topple from her feet and land in the dirt heavily.

"Yield." Qui-Gon ordered, stepping forward to loom over his defeated adversary, his blade hovering only inches from her throat. "I do not wish to harm you Siri."

"Don't pretend that you have the moral high ground, deserter." Siri spat, her eyes like durasteel.

Qui-Gon sighed, studying the female. She had always been stubborn, even as a youngling. It had been a wonder that her master, Adi Gallia, had managed to tame some of that during their time together. However, Siri was now out from under Gallia's influence and even had a student of her own, facing down the Galaxy with nothing but a lightsaber and the weight of her ideals. 

_It must be exhausting to think she has to carry the Galaxy on her shoulders._

"Nothing to say? Can't say I'm surprised." The young Jedi glared up at him, narrowing her eyes. "Did you take a vow of silence after you abandoned Obi-Wan on Malastare all those years ago?"

"I did not abandon him." Qui-Gon frowned, glancing towards another downed Jedi, this one an unconscious male. "Ferus' wounds will scar if you don't get him to the medical center in town as soon as possible."

"Like you care." Siri slowly found her way back to her feet and Qui-Gon accommodated this, taking several steps back but keeping his blade raised. "Are you going to kill me or not?"

"I'm not a killer." Qui-Gon sighed once more, tossing Siri's hilt to her. She caught it without flinching. "Go."

Siri stared him down for a few tense moments before she growled and rushed over to her student. Qui-Gon watched her check on the young mans wounds, a shallow sear across his chest and a moderate burn across his left shin. He had gone out of his way to ensure the wounds would be extremely painful, but relatively easy to heal within a bacta tank. A decade ago, he would have felt more than a brief pang of guilt at his actions. Now, all he did was release a short breath. Everything he did was necessary. Even this. 

"We'll find you again." Siri spat as she lifted her apprentices body gently onto the back of her speeder bike, strapping him in securely. "You can't hide from the Jedi Council."

"I'm not hiding." Qui-Gon replied. He was ignored.

Only after the Siri's bike disappeared into the distance did Qui-Gon deactivate his weapon, hanging the hilt on his belt. Folding his arms across his chest, he considered the situation for a moment before turning and heading back through the forest towards where his campsite was located.

* * *

"Your Highness?"

Padme blinked back into focus, dismissing her inward musings. She wasn't on Coruscant yet, rather merely in her own Court within Theed, the Capital City of Naboo. There was no need for her to anxiously go over the speech that had been prepared for her to give to the Senate in opposition to the rapidly materializing Military Escalation Act, nor did she have to imagine the many different possible outcomes of her presentation. Everything had been organized meticulously to ensure her words would reach the hearts of a majority, and if worst came to worst, she could always fall back on the fact that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had mentored her during her youth. He would surely back her up.

"My apologies, Captain." Amidala's voice flowed from Padme's lips, far deeper than her own in an accent that could not be traced to any known dialect on Naboo. Much like her speech, the Queen's persona had been carefully crafted through months of rehearsal. It was unassuming, cold and steadfast. The perfect mask. "I was dwelling on the upcoming summit."

"As you well should." Governor Sio Bibble touted with a sharp nod. 

"Then allow me to repeat myself." Captain Panaka's irritation could not be hidden from his tone, but Padme knew that it would fade quickly. "Senator Organa of Alderaan has sent us some troubling reports of Mandalore's movements within the Outer Rim. Scipio has fallen, and it seems that their next target will be Rodia."

_Scipio? Is Rush okay?_

"I see." Amidala drawled, her expression neutral. Inwardly, Padme felt herself grown concerned. _Uncle Ono_. "Has word been sent to Senator Farr?"

"Communications have been... disrupted." Panaka's hesitation said all that Padme needed to hear. _I'm so sorry._

"The disruption can only mean invasion." Bibble growled. "Surely Chancellor Palpatine will send aid to Rodia."

"It's doubtful. Tensions are high at the moment and much of the Republics military is spread across crucial Republic worlds." Panaka frowned. "Perhaps, we should reach out to the Jedi?"

"We have kept the Jedi from tainting our world for over five hundred years. Our Queen will not be the one to upend that legacy, no matter the situation." Bibble's words were not counsel. They were an order. "It is not our place to interfere in the affairs of other systems."

_I am the Queen. I should be able to overrule a senile old man, blinded by tradition._

"The Governor is correct." Amidala stated. "We can only hope that Senator Farr will be able to transmit a request of his own for aid."

"There is another matter, your highness." Panaka paused and Padme wondered what could possibly make the day worse. "It appears that Count Dooku of Serenno will be in attendance at the summit, to represent the interests of the Economic Party."

"The Economists will support the increase in military spending and recruitment!" Amidala cracked, and Padme peered out from beneath the mask. "They hold a majority within the Senate based on monetary debt alone."

"Your majesty will recall that Count Dooku has been a friend in the past." Bibble's tone was scathing. He always disapproved of Padme showing herself in public. "I will arrange for a meeting between the two of you before the summit so that you may present your case."

_In other words, you were bought by the Banking Clan decades ago and don't want me to create a risk for your continued dealings with San Hill._

"Very well." Amidala rose suddenly, her four handmaidens silently following suit. None of their faces could be seen beneath their flaming orange, hooded robes that echoed the Queens crimson attire and face paint. "If there is nothing else, I will retire to prepare for the Festival of Light."

Amidala moved gracefully, yet firmly as she exited the throne room, eyes forward as her subjects bowed before her. The mask did not break until long after, when she finally made it through the maze of halls in the Palace to her own bedchambers. As Corde and Dorme closed the doors and Sabe activated the blinders, Amidala exhaled powerfully and Padme crumbled beneath the weight of the Queen's robes. Tears welled in her eyes and she felt a hand on her shoulder, alongside the warmth of another body pressing against her side.

"It's alright Padme." Sabe whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. Only within the Queens chambers could Padme become a fully realized person. "Naboo has many allies within the Senate."

"We may be able to cause a stalemate in the bills passing." Corde added softly.

"A stalemate will only prolong the inevitable." Padme whispered. Unlike Amidala, her voice was not only bass and neutrality. Rather, her emotions dripped from each word. "How can the Governor expect me to leave Uncle Ono to die?"

"That is something we cannot allow." Dorme knelt down before Padme, taking her hands between her own. "Members of the Jedi High Council will be at the summit and the Governor will not be. You can petition one of them directly to send aid."

"And if they don't?" Padme's lip trembled. "I cannot lose Rush and Ono within the same week."

"There was no confirmation about Rush's fate." Sabe said, and Padme could tell her mind was racing. Sabe had always been the most pragmatic of the group. "I'll ask Gregar about it later."

"For now, let's get you out of the façade." Corde and Sabe assisted Padme to her feet, the former wiping tears from the real Queen's cheeks. "I will shoulder the burden of Amidala tonight. You deserve a break."

* * *

**An explosion. Screams. Bodies flying in all directions.**

**A young girl, barely into her adulthood. Beautiful, but terrified. Looking for help where none is offered.**

**Lightsabers clash rapidly. One is like sapphire, the other a blade of darkness.**

**"Qui-Gon." Somebody says. "Qui-Gon." Seething anger. "Qui-Gon!" Pain. "HELP ME!"**

Qui-Gons eyes snapped open, ending his mediation as the material world replaced the mental. His breaths were coming quickly and he felt sweat drenching his brow. Having spent almost all of his life within the Jedi Order, Qui-Gon was well versed in receiving visions while he meditated, but they had grown far more vivid with time, blurring the line between perception and reality. The Force had been trying to tell him something, and now it was up to the aged former Jedi to decipher the message. 

_Whose voice was that?_

The thought plagued the Human as he wiped the sweat from his brow and began to pack up the camp site. It was past time to move on. With the Jedi aware of his location, it was only a matter of time before they dispatched somebody more capable than Siri Tachi to deal with him. While the Order presented as a pure order of Heroic warrior monks that purged evil from the Galaxy, Qui-Gon was well aware of the lie and his master before him. The Jedi had become corrupted over centuries of peace, gaining power and influence beyond what their creed allowed. It had never been intended for the Jedi to have a presence within the Galactic Senate, and yet they had been granted one.

_Power blinds without the serenity to see._

It did not take long for him to pack everything up and mount his speeder, setting off towards the nearest spaceport. A Jedi carried only what was necessary, and Qui-Gon cared little for trinkets. A lifetime of being told to dissociate from the personal had left quite the mark, yet Qui-Gon did not fault the Order for that at least. He had the Force and with the Force, anything was possible. He was never truly alone, nor did he want for anything. 

He reached the settlement quickly and dismounted, making for the spaceport itself. While he did still wear the tunic of a Jedi, it was obscured beneath a long grey poncho, giving him the appearance of a weary traveler. It served his purpose well. Aside from the woven sack that carried his meager possessions, he gave off no illusion of wealth, therefore not usually making a target of himself for the opportunistic, while his intimidating physical stature ensured that he rarely ran into conflict with those looking for trouble. 

And yet, that there was always the exception to the rule.

"Jedi!" A group of seven ruffians blocked his path to the spaceport, their leader speaking to him. A Zabrak male wielding a run down vibro blade. Physically fit. Scars that displayed he was a survivor of many battles. "Or should I say, deserter!"

_His confidence is bolstered by their numbers._

"Silent type huh? We'll see how long that lasts." The Zabrak nodded and his allies began to spread out around Qui-Gon until they had him encircled, each of them wielding some form of melee weapon. Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon gathered himself together within the Force, his breaths calm. "I'm sure the Jedi will pay us a lot of credits for sending you back to them in pieces."

_None of them are wielding blasters. An oddly strategic decision for this bunch. They know I could simply deflect their fire._

"Not even gunna draw your lightsaber? Disappointing." The Zabrak let out a hearty laugh before pointing his vibroblade at Qui-Gon. "Get him boys!"

_Two from behind. Swinging their weapons in tandem towards either hip. A clumsy attempt to limit my movement._

Qui-Gon allowed the Force to flow into him willingly, leaping high into the air, far above where the two thugs had attempted to bisect him. The Human came down heavily, planting both feet on one thugs shoulders and forcing him to crumble to the ground. Raising his hand, Qui-Gon presented his palm to the second attacker, sending a wave of Force energy into the thug that send him hurtling down the street and out of view.

_A jab at my left shoulder from a female wielding a spear. She assumes this is my dominant hand, and therefore wants to remove the possibility that I draw my lightsaber. But she's too slow._

Qui-Gon turned slightly, catching the spear just below the blade, mere centimeters from it's intended target. Spinning rapidly, he dragged the wielder with him and threw her off balance, bringing his other hand around to chop at the back of her neck. She fell unconscious and hit the ground. 

"The kriff are you doing!? KILL HIM!" The leader screamed, some fear lingering in the words.

_A male, seven meters to my right. He is drawing his sword arm back, intending to throw the blade at me._

Spinning with the spear still in hand, Qui-Gon threw the weapon like a javelin. It pierced through the fourth thugs clothing with ease, and then his flesh, causing a gargled scream to rise from his throat as he was thrown back. 

_Four down. The fifth and sixth are frozen. Their fear is palpable and it has unbalanced them._

Qui-Gon shot a hostile glance at the pair and they ran off in the opposite direction, weapons clanging to the ground behind them.

"COWARDS!" The leader cried as Qui-Gon turned his full attention towards the Zabrak. "Guess I'll have to deal with you myself."

_He IS confident, but there's an underlying fear. He wasn't expecting things to go south for them so quickly._

The sound of a blaster firing cut through the tension like a knife to butter, and the leader fell to the ground, dead before he impacted. Behind him stood a Twi'lek female, green skinned and well armored. The way she stood made it blatantly obvious that she had been trained in combat, as if the symbol of the Republic military on her chest wasn't enough of an indicator. Slowly, she holstered her blaster as she surveyed the situation, then her eyes tore through Qui-Gon like uncut jades.

"Jedi huh?" She spat on the ground, making her opinion clear. "These guys are my problem."

"You're welcome." Qui-Gon quipped, a sly smirk crossing his bearded face.

"Get outta here before I book you for inciting violence in a public location." The Twi'lek ordered, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder towards the Spaceport.

"As you wish." Qui-Gon conceded.

Entering the spaceport, Qui-Gon felt his thoughts lingering on the Twi'lek. He had not expected to see a Republic Soldier all the way in the Outer Rim, especially in the current political climate. Which meant that either the Republic was finally prepared to deal with the problems that the Mandalorians had been creating for the people of the outlying systems, or at least, they intended to expand their own influence.

_I'll have to expedite my search._

Qui-Gon approached the ticket desk and looked over the options for travel when prompted. 

Tatooine.

**Rodia.**

Nar Shadda.

"One for Rodia, please."

* * *

The Festival of Light was the most prestigious event of Naboo's year. An anniversary of the end of the Great Fissure, it symbolized the unity of the planets people and the removal of corruption from the government. It had become tradition for the reigning monarch to be the one who activated the fireworks each year, and so this year the duty fell to Amidala. Part of Padme wished that she would be the one to activate it, to round out the first year of her reign, but as she stared at the Corde's back, the handmaiden having taken her place for the festival, Padme also felt relieved. If only for one night, she could enjoy something openly.

Chancellor Palpatine had been invited to attend, but due to his political responsibilities, Padme's old tutor had not been able to make it. Ironically, she was glad, because Sheev would surely have been able to tell that it was not her beneath Amidala's makeup. He'd always had an uncanny ability to know who was presenting as the Queen, despite the fact that Padme, Corde, Sabe and Dorme were near identical. 

Night had fallen over Naboo and the Queen's party emerged from her chambers. As opposed to the severe attire that they had worn to the advisory meeting earlier, now the group wore spring colors and far lighter fabric to present the overall feeling of the Festival. The fabric of the handmaiden's hooded dresses in particular had been created to catch the light and change colors accordingly, while the Queen's robe was constantly shifting. All of the clothes were utterly beautiful, and handcrafted painstakingly by the royal staff. 

They traveled to the top floor of the Palace and out onto the balcony where a who's who of Naboo's upper class awaited them, alongside the controls for the fireworks atop a platform where Amidala would announce the beginning of the festival. The Queen's party had arrived exactly on time, so as to not waste the time of her people and the handmaidens took up position at the base of the platform as Amidala stepped onto it and rose high up above them. Padme noted the presence of Naboo's security force, used to their lemon colored tunics as a precaution at all of Amidala's events. Naboo had little in the way of military strength beyond their security force, due not only to their pacifistic nature, but also out of a lack of necessity. Naboo was a peaceful world.

"I thank you all for coming." Amidala's voice boomed from atop the platform, enhanced by speakers placed strategically across the balcony. Corde had never been able to get Amidala's low tone exactly right, but it wouldn't be noticeable to the vast majority. "As your Queen, I hereby announce the beginning of the Festival of Light!" 

As Amidala pressed the activation button, no fireworks flew up into the skys above to paint it in a chaotic, yet beautiful, dance of color. Rather, the platform itself exploded and Amidala was thrown violently from atop it. Padme's eyes widened in horror as she watched Corde's limp body slam into the concrete floor of the balcony with the audible snapping of bones, while the security guards hastily rushed the handmaidens inside. Hearing the sound of ignition from above, the last thing Padme seen before the doors were drawn shut was the sight of countless Mandalorian soldiers descending upon the Palace. 


	2. Chapter 2

The club was obnoxiously loud. In fact, the only things that could match the noise was the offensively fluorescent lighting and the repugnant stench of sweat and alcohol that draped across the dance floor like a suffocating fog. Anakin Skywalker hated every moment that he was forced to spend in locations like that, and he found himself trapped in them more often than not. 

_But my life isn't about what I want. It's about what the fat slug and his friends want._

The reason for his trip to this particular club, Ufora Red, was perhaps less desirable than the lighting, noise and smell. Or maybe it wasn't. The environment of the club was overwhelming and constant as Anakin pushed his way through the crowd towards the stairway that would lead towards the V.I.P room. It permeated into his very soul and wasn't something that could be switched off. At the very least, Anakin's task here would be temporary. Maybe a couple of hours entertaining some form of criminal scum in a room that was hopefully cleaner than the club. Hopefully with walls that cancelled out the noise. 

"I.D?" A bouncer asked at the base of the stairway.

Anakin refrained from rolling his eyes as he held up his right forearm, the symbol of Jabba the Hutt burned clearly into the flesh there. The bouncer looked it over carefully, before nodding the Human through. Dropping his arm back to his side, Anakin swayed up the stairs, trying to somehow delay the inevitable that would present itself to him at the top. As soon as he reached the final stair, the door positioned there opened automatically. Inside was a small room with a circular table in the center. Five chairs were scattered around the table, all of them occupied by non-human criminals. Among them was a face he knew well: Greedo. A Rodian that he'd grown up with on Tatooine. 

"About time." One of the aliens, a male Devaronian, said. It was Anakins current client, all red skinned muscle and bluster. "Was startin' to think I'd hafta send someone to getcha."

"He's always been bad at keeping to a schedule." Greedo added in his peoples language. Unlike Anakin, Greedo was armed. Unlike Anakin, Greedo was free.

"I was just taking in the city. Not often I get to come to the 'Smugglers Moon'." Anakins tone was all confidence, to the point of flippancy. "Quite the club ya got here, Kadash."

"Like da way you say my name." Kadash smirked, leaning back in his chair. 

"He's definitely every bit as handsome as Jabba said." A female Iktotchi cut in, her hungry eyes practically undressing the Human. "What's your name, pretty boy?"

"Anakin. Anakin Skywalker." His confidence remained, but a chill ran down the young mans spine.

_Just a couple of hours. Just a couple._

"Anakin Skywalker." The Iktotchi's tongue ran across every syllable as she repeated his name. 

"Don't get too excited Heroni." Kadash said, chuckling. "I'm da one payin da bill here."

"How ya been Ani?" Greedo asked. There was an obvious aura of superiority in his tone, as if he was bragging about their difference in social standing.

"Business is good. The boss is happy. I'm fed." Anakin shrugged, leaning to one side. 

"Why dotcha come into da light so we can get a betta look atcha?" Kadash gestured Anakin closer, towards the table in the center of the room.

A lazy smile spread across Anakins face at the invitation, taking one soft step towards the table, then another. All eyes were on him, and he was very well aware of it. He made sure to make eye contact, playfully draw in each of them with a strategic flex of his exposed biceps or a sway of his hips. There was money to be made here, not for him of course, but for Jabba. The Hutt had made it extremely clear to Anakin that he was to squeeze as many credits out of Kadash and his friends as possible within the allotted time. In return, Anakin would get a ten minute Holocall with his mother back home on Tatooine. Deep down, it infuriated him. To have to give up his very being to a gangster just for his mother to be fed, clothed and housed on some dust ball in the asscrack of the Galaxy. But it was a price he'd continue to pay, no matter what Jabba asked him to do. His mother's safety was all that mattered at the end of the day. 

One day, he would free her and things would change. But for now-

"Take ya shirt off." Kadash ordered as Anakin stepped up onto the table, the Devaronian leaning back into his chair with a lustful gleam in his eyes.

_Just a couple of hours._

* * *

"Padme!" Sabe pulled her close, arms wrapping around her narrow shoulders like a protective ward. "Are you alright?"

"I-" Padme felt the words become snared in her throat, tears flowing freely. "Corde is.... she's..."

"Shh. Shh." Dorme appeared at their side, wiping the tears away. "We have to evacuate. Can you move on your own?"

Forcing herself to suck in a shaky breath, Padme nodded and Sabe's arms fell away. With security guards flanking them, the three Handmaidens were ushered down the hallway towards the throne room. The palace shook and the sounds of explosions and blaster fire was clear. Each time she breathed in, Padme could smell the swiftly thickening scent of smoke, though she was yet to see any. Her mind raced as the security guards forced the throne room doors open and they hurried inside.

_Is this an invasion? How did we miss this?_

"Your highness?!" Bibble rushed towards them with a relieved expression. "I had feared the worst."

"Corde chose to take Padme's place today" Sabe replied when Padme could not find the words. But the anxiety in her voice could not be hidden beneath Sabe's clarity of mind. "Her sacrifice will not be in vain."

"They struck hard and without warning." Bibble informed the three, leading them towards the throne. "It seems that Mandalorian warriors have been entering under the guise of refugees for months. Our security forces are overwhelmed."

"Have they blockaded the planet?" Dorme asked.

"No. It is not the way of the Mandalorians to entrap. Merely to overwhelm through armed combat. Their society is built upon martial prowess." Upon reaching the throne, Bibble pressed down on one of the armrests. It slid away to reveal several pistols, communicators and credit chips stored in a small recess. "Escape is our only hope."

"We cannot abandon the people!" Padme's voice tore from her throat with conviction. "There has to be something we can do."

There was silence as Bibble stared down at the weapons. For a moment, Padme thought the Governor might actually be thinking of a solution to the problem, but instead his shoulders slumped and the elderly man pulled two of the blasters from their hiding place.

"I'm sorry, my Queen. The Naboo cannot stand up to a warrior race of Mandalore's caliber." Bibble handed the blasters to Sabe and Corde, before taking a third and offering it to Padme. "We must follow our emergency protocols and ensure you get off of the planet."

As Padme took the blaster and was ushered towards a secret passage that led to the Queen's personal hanger, she felt her heart sink. The blaster felt heavy in her palm despite it's small size and she felt her eyes drawn to it as Bibble barked orders at the security guards. During training, all members of Amidala's Haindmaiden core had received training in martial arts and marksmanship, but she'd never had to use the latter against a living being. 

_Will I be able to pull the trigger?_

Glass shattered as an armored figure launched themselves through the plate glass window behind the throne. Padme looked on in horror as her security forces were gunned down by the masked figure who moved like water, dodging blaster bolts and taking down the guards like they were mere children playing at being soldiers. 

"Get inside!" Bibble ordered, shoving Padme into the hidden passageway.

"Protect the Queen!" Dorme added, pushing Sabe in behind Padme.

The doors slid shut immediately afterwards, and behind them a set of blast doors, leaving Padme and Sabe alone in the dimly lit passage. They could just barely hear the sounds of battle now and the two of them shared a worried glance. Sabe was, of course, the first to snap out of it and took Padme's hand tightly.

"We need to keep moving, your majesty."

"Y-yes." Padme nodded, letting Sabe lead her onward.

* * *

Public transport always had something to offer, be it entertainment, intrigue or unexpectedly good wine. In this case, two of those things applied. Qui-Gon had initially intended to retire to his room for the duration of the flight, if one could call it a room rather than a closet with a bunk. Instead, he had felt hungry and after stowing his belongings away, he went to the on board cantina to fetch himself some sustenance. While he had come for the food, the former Jedi Master had stayed for the show. A band, with a lead who actually had quite an impressive voice. 

_Many will not notice the beauty of her voice, but rather, only her physical beauty._

As the show came to an end and Qui-Gon calmly applauded the bands efforts, he called over the bartender to bring him another beverage and as soon as the bartender retreated, a well dressed Human slid into the booth opposite him. At first, Qui-Gon assumed this man may have simply entered the wrong booth, but the Force told him that the man intended to be exactly where he was. 

"Before you say anything, let me just tell you that I am most impressed with how a man of your stature has managed to seamlessly blend into the background. That's quite a talent." The man was young, clearly from a wealthy background based on his clothing and manner of speech. Used to dominating the conversation. "Your physical profile has led me to assume that you're some kind of mercenary. Yes? No?"

"Perhaps I'm just a man who wanted to sit in a quiet corner and enjoy his meal." Qui-Gon remarked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Or maybe you're a Jedi Knight, trying to stay out of sight and not attract attention to himself." The man countered.

_My disguise clearly needs work. It seems I've been made three times in the past few hours._

"What makes you think that, my young friend?" Qui-Gon asked, reaching out with the Force to probe the young mans mind. He was surprised to find it closed off to him.

"Just a feeling." The man said, an excited smile spreading across his face. "So you ARE a Jedi then?"

_He was bluffing. Clever._

"I am who I need to be." Qui-Gon replied smoothly. "If you want something from me, a good place to start is an introduction."

"Oh right right, of course. My mistake." The man cleared his throat. "I am Feemor Xanatos, son of Crion Xanatos, otherwise known as the Governor of Telos."

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn." He replied, intrigued by the young man. "What brings the son the Governor of Telos to a public transport bound for Rodia?"

"Pops and I had a falling out. Terrible thing." Feemor dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I've been travelling from planet to planet, looking to strike out on my own merits."

"And?" Qui-Gon eyed the young man. He could sense it, however dim it was. A connection to the Force. 

"I've unfortunately run afoul of some rather muscular, short tempered Gamorreans." Feemor chuckled. "When I seen you lumbering through the crowd, I hoped that I'd be able to throw some credits your way to get rid of that little problem."

"Did something about me also give off the impression that I'm up for sale?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Well I- Oh...." Feemor's expression changed from coy to fearful in a split second, then to charming. "Hontagg! I was just coming to AGH-!"

Qui-Gon watched as Feemor was yanked from the booth by a particularly ugly Gamorrean and thrown to the ground, winding the young Human. As Feemor recovered, the Gamorrean, Hontagg it seemed, drew a vibro-axe and held it to the Human's throat, clearly ready to kill him. The population of the cantina were noticeably shaken, with all eyes falling on the two. Rolling his own eyes, Qui-Gon considered how best to handle the situation without drawing even more unnecessary attention to them.

"Excuse me my friend." Qui-Gon smiled calmly as Hontagg's hostile gaze turned to him. "Forgive me for interfering, but this all seems a little excessive, don't you think?"

"Credits. Owe me." Hontagg spat in broken basic. "Want now."

"Ahh yes, the credits. Of course." Qui-Gon leaned back into the booth, drawing on the Force to pull a haze across the Gamorreans mind. His next words were spoken with an eerily trancelike calm. "The credits that were delivered to your room."

"Credits in room...?" Hontagg muttered, raising his axe from Feemor's throat and starting at Qui-Gon.

"Indeed. The full payment, plus interest." Qui-Gon could sense that he now had full influence over the Gamoreans faculties. "You want to go back to your room and count your earnings. You're rich now."

"Go room and count." Hontagg let out a belt of laughter, turning and storming through the cantina towards exit. "Hontagg rich!"

As soon as the Gamorrean disappeared, the cantina went back to business as usual. Qui-Gon watched as Feemar coughed, desperately trying to draw air back into his winded lungs, before pulling himself back up into the booth. The wealthy young man's hair was ruffled, but there appeared to be no further damage.

"Th-thank you." Feemar gasped. "I'll pay you handsomely for this."

"From the sounds of things young Feemar, you should reconsider putting yourself in debt to another dangerous stranger." Qui-Gon shook his head. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Ignoring Feemar's protests, Qui-Gon placed a credit chip on the table and slid out of the booth, heading for the exit. He couldn't afford to be drawing more attention to himself, and the Force was telling him that Feemar would certainly do just that. He wasn't sure how exactly, but his former master had always told him to trust both the Force and his instincts in the moment. Right then and there, both were telling him to avoid Feemar Xanatos, so that was what he would do.

* * *


End file.
